Darkness: State of Light
by ObsessiveCompulsiveforhp
Summary: When Harry's finally had enough of being Dumnledore's convenient hero, where does he go? To the Dark, obviously. Darkish!Harry OOC Snape, Voldie and Harry SLASH OMG I submitted! Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Darkness: State of Light

Chapter One: Welcome, Harry Potter

Harry winced in the warm summer air, willing his leg to hold. He was almost there. All he had to do was get off the damned property and he could get away. Few more steps, just a few more, there we go. Panting, he hobbled to a stop, glaring at the fence that seemed to get no closer. Just a few more steps away and he would be gone from Number Four, Privet Drive for good.

His scar seared for a moment, and instead of fear gripping his insides as it always did when he felt something from Voldemort, Harry felt the heady anxious feeling of grabbing at an opportunity. Taking a chance, he threw his consciousness at the pain, and gasped in shock. A flood of information roared through the connection, and the resulting force sent him to his knees.

Screaming brought him out of the daze he had fallen into as his brain tried to compress and associate all the new knowledge. The screaming also brought his uncle and his fists, and Harry nearly blacked out under the fresh onslaught. At the last second a fresh peal of searing pain lashed through his scar, and magic drilled through him to send his uncle flying. Harry wasn't sure just what was happening, but he used the time to hobble the last few feet to the edge of the property line, and with one last pain filled glance at the house, spun on the spot and disappeared.

He reappeared in a dark clearing, standing in front of a very large building, that may or may not have been a theatre house at one point in time. He shivered and looked around, expecting company. No one was out and about, and Harry heaved double sigh of relief, realizing he had just apparated to an unknown location and hadn't splinched himself. Some daft fool had obviously tried to convert in into a house at one point in time, but it hadn't worked very well. At an rate, he was hurting, the sky was cloudy and he was pretty sure the person he most wanted to see right now was inside, and so inside he went.

'What was with evil men and the dark?' he wondered. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, as the entire building seemed to be encased in darkness. The only light seemed to be coming from the main theatre room, and Harry could only tell where THAT was by the tiny threads of light along the edges of the double doors. Shaking with the effort, Harry dragged himself forward, and was relieved beyond reason when the doors swung open without his help. In front of him stood rows and rows of hooded dark figures, all facing forward, and ignoring him completely. Which was just fine with Harry, since he was sure he was bleeding very badly, and didn't feel like being gawked at at the moment, thank you very much. Up at the front, on the large lit stage, sat Voldemort, the gaudy throne obviously something from the old theatre's deep, dark, old basement, but Harry let it slide. Resolutely, he dragged himself forward, ignoring the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. It was creepy, but not unbearable. After what seemed like an eternity and he had lost all feeling in his left arm, Harry finally reached the front of the room, and hastened to lean against the stage, a little.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort's high cold voice called, a trace of wonder coloring the statement. "I find myself most intrigued."

Harry nodded, with great effort, and managed "I'm sure you do. I'm not going to bother, though, so if you'll excuse me?" It was rude, and saying it out loud was practically begging for a Crucio, but Voldemort didn't seem to care.

"Tell me, Potter, what brings you here? You must realize you've handed me the hope of the Light on a silver platter, do you not?"

"Frankly, Tom, I don't care." There was silence as the whole room took the time to absorb this. Harry allowed it, and then plowed on as his leg gave a particularly vicious twinge. "I'm sick of playing for the Light side when they treat their players like toys. Or their star player like a toy, rather."

"I see," Voldemort said, shifting slightly in his seat. "How came you by those injuries, Harry Potter? Surely Dumbledore has better guards than those who would allow you out to get into a muggle brawl, let alone run off to meet a Dark Lord?"

Harry gave him a pained, bloody grin. "Dumbledore keeps sending me to my mother's sister and her husband and the thing they spawned." He spat a glob of blood out before it managed to dribble down his chin. "This is what they do to me, every time."

"Interesting. Let me kill them, Harry. I can assure you, it will be quick."

"I don't want it to be quick, Tom," Harry wheezed, gripping the iron bars pegged into the edge of the stage. "I want it to be a long, drawn out process where they're all begging for their pathetic, miserable lives with no hope of salvation."

"Interesting," the serpent man hissed. "Tell me, what does this new, improved Harry Potter want to come out of this meeting?"

"Long list short, Tom, I prepared to join your side in this, but I've got a few conditions. One , I won't bow, scrape, kiss your robes or your hand or whatever. Prophecy claimed us as equals and you confirmed it. I'm pretty much content to leave the ruling to you, after all. Second, stop killing the muggles. Sooner or later they're going to notice us, and when they do, they'll be worst than a horde of doxies interrupting an important dinner party. Have you ever heard about Hitler? I didn't think so. What I suggest is that we….rescue them…. You know as well as I how some muggles treat their children. The way I see it, there's a bit of magic in muggles, or else how would we get muggleborns, right? So we take the kids they obviously don't want, and all the muggleborns, and let me raise them our way. Third, stop branding people. Its painful and mean, and you really don't need to. Your men define loyalty, and you do a good job inspiring it in them. Plus, when the ministry start searching for it next week on all their employees and visitors to the ministry, a lot of your men will get caught. Um," his head swam, and Harry gripped the stage tighter, willing himself to stay upright. "Fourth, have someone kill Dumbledore, and send your most enthusiastic players to Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, where my relatives live." He winced as his head gave a nasty throb. "That wasn't short, I know. But that's it."

"Indeed." Voldie was clearly amused, and while he knew he should be worried about this, Harry couldn't find it within himself to be. "And, what's stopping me from killing you right where you stand, hmm?"

"Uh, nothing really, 'cept the curse might rebound again, and you don't really want to take that chance, do you? Plus, you'll be dealing the light side a major blow this way, even more so than if I died, and you really don't want me dead, since your chances of good, wholesome conversation would go right out the window, and I can get you Hogwarts."

Voldemort stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Harry wished he would just get it over with already. After a few more minutes of willing his body not to crumble in mind bending silence, Voldemort spoke.

"Severus, tend to him."

There was a rustle of cloth as the crowd of assembled Death Eaters parted to allow one lone figure clear passage, and Harry pulled his magic around him, waiting for the right moment to strike. Snape drew closer, reaching into the depths of his robes and pulling out a small black box that enlarged quickly to reveal a small chest, filed with potions, supposedly. Two seconds before Snape's fingers grazed his arm, Harry hissed in a voice that still carried over the silent hall, "Accio Hogwarts Portkey."

A small brown stone flew out from behind the potions master, and Harry could only assume it was stashed in a back pocket somewhere, which confused him.

Snape, on the other hand was looking perfectly at ease, his head cocked to the side like some overlarge bird. "It has already been deactivated," he stated in a calm voice reminiscent of Luna Lovegood. Meeting the bottomless black orbs, Harry felt himself slipping into what could only be Snape's mind, and was met wit a compact wall, which quickly fell away, giving way to an image of Severus pulling the stone from an inner pocket just as Harry began his long list of conditions, deactivating it and shifting it to the back pocket of his dark Muggle slacks.

For a minute, Harry was satisfied, until he remembered that Snape had been spying for years, and he set about finding out for sure just whose side Snape was on. The problem with that was that Snape sensed his intentions and was pushing him out, speedily. Just as the room they were standing in was beginning to come into focus along the edges of his vision, another consciousness flooded Harry's own and they both slammed forcefully into Snapes hastily put up mental shields. There were rapid whirls of color and sound, which just about made him sick on top of his other ailments, before he realized that Voldemort had joined him and had taken Harry's mission as his own.

Accepting that this was far and beyond his level of expertise, Harry retreated into a small corner of their conjoined minds where he could watch the proceedings but not be in harms way. Every once in a while an image would be hurled his way: Snape standing guard over his hospital bed after the Sorcerer's Stone fiasco, Snape tailing Harry in the hallway as he moved to another class, unaware of Quirrell walking behind him, Lupin turning into a werewolf in third year and Snape throwing himself in front of Harry and his friends, all instances in Severus was…protecting him. Harry couldn't figure out why Voldemort wanted him to se them, but he watched with a sort of detached interest, until he felt himself being pulled away, and blinked to find himself still standing, but also panting painfully on top of it.

"Well done, Severus," Tom hissed, reaching for a goblet Wormtail had appeared with. "Well done, indeed."

"You assigned him to watch me?" Harry asked, putting two and two together.

"After a fashion, yes. Drink your potion."

Harry grimaced, and accepted the foul mixture Snape was holding up to his lips. A second before his vision swam for the last time and everything went black, Harry heard "Welcome to the Dark, Harry Potter" and knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

Someone was screaming.

It really didn't bother him, much, save for the fact that said screaming person was interrupting his sleep. And he liked his sleep. Very much so. SO very much so that he whipped the blankets off him, ignoring the chill in the room, swung himself out of bed and ripped the door to the room he was sleeping in open. Next, it was just a few short corridors worth of stomping before he came to the right doors, and threw them open.

Harry Potter stood in the doorway, nasty scowl on his face and untidy black hair even more mussed than usual. His expression and the tingle of his magic in the air was terrifying enough to instill the very real beginnings of terror in his new followers, and did, mostly, but the effect was slightly damaged by the image of Harry's skinny torso emerging out of black and yellow stripped pajama bottoms. There was dead silence for a minute, broken only by the loud whimpering of the previously screaming person, before Voldemort thought it prudent to proceed.

"Something the matter, Potter?" he asked lazily.

Angry green eyes locked on the reincarnated wizard's thin form before narrowing. "Yes." He swept the room with his gaze again, noting Malfoy senior, Mulciber and someone who might be one of the Lestrange brothers, before turning back to his now partner-in-crime. "I was sleeping, and then I heard screaming. Since I'm one of the few here who don't think of pained screams as the equivalent of a bedtime lullaby, I came to see what was the matter."

He had been steadily walking as he spoke, and now stood over the still keening man. His nose wrinkled instinctively at the smell, before he pushed aside his discomfort and decided what he was going to do. With a sharp twist of his hand, a cloud of blackish-red smoke rose from the prone man's form, and his trembling decreased. Now that he had done that, Harry was stumped as to what to do with it. He had only wanted to take the pain away…..and now that he had….

"Uh, Tom?"

"Just will it to go away, Potter," the Dark Lord drawled boredly.

After doing just that, and hitting the Death Eater's victim with several cleaning and freshening charms, he used his magic to maneuver him into a sitting position. The man was utterly terrified by this point, and had his eyes tightly clench, but Harry ignored it, and spoke in a cheerful voice.

"Hullo sir! I'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind."

The man didn't respond beyond a quick shaky nod that may have just been an extra deep tremble, but Harry pressed on.

"Your name, if you will?"

"J-jeffery P-palanksi, sir" the name answered.

Harry turned to look at the assembled Death Eaters. "'Sir', did you hear that? That's the kind of respect _you_ idiots are supposed to have. I forgot, aren't you supposed to be kneeling?" He grinned as they all stumbled to obey, even as he returned his attention to the Muggle before him. "Mr. Palanksi, you say. And your profession would be that of?"

"Psychology, sir."

"Tsk tsk, is this how you would treat the good doctor, Lucius? How barbaric. "harry looked around, before once more settling on Tom. The elder man seemed far too amused. "Where's your rat, Tommy?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, but he made a gesture. Seconds later Wormtail came scurrying in, out of breath and with tears in his eyes "My lord, you called?"

"Over here, vermin," Harry ordered, his voice hard and eyes harder. "You report to me now." Wormtail hesitated, briefly, and received a swift cutting curse to his back for the delay. Whimpering and stuttering, he crawled toward Harry, and made as if to kiss the tips of his feet. "If you touch me, Wormtail, I will personally feed you to Nagini, got it?"

"Y-yes, M-master."

"Good," Harry said, brightening falsely. "Malfoy's been rude to a guest. I want you to punish him."

"Punish him, Master?" Wormtail asked, eyes widening almost comically.

"Yes, punish him, Wormtail," he said, as if explaining something to a small child. "Make sure he sees the error of his ways." Harry gestured for Mulciber and Lestrange-look-alike to stand. "Take Dr. Palanski somewhere comfortable, make sure he's tended to. He is a _guest_, got it?" He waited for the two to nod their understanding before turning to snap at Pettigrew. "NOW, Wormtail!"

As Malfoy's screams lit the air around them, Harry turned menacingly towards the easy chair that Voldemort sat in. Tom merely grinned widely and motioned for him to hurry up. Harry was not amused. "I assume you wanted me for something, hence the screams bleeding into my subconscious," he said as he drew closer. "But why a simple 'Harry, rouse yourself and make your way to the library' would not have sufficed, I must confess I have no idea."

Tom slung a brotherly arm around Harry's shoulders and led him to a door he hadn't noticed before. "That is why I am the Dark Lord, and you are not." At Harry's scowl he chuckled. "There is something I must show you, in here."

Harry acquiesced, not as if he had much choice, what with Voldie leading him and all, but first…

"A pause, Wormtail," he intoned. "Malfoy, where is that son of yours, I wonder?"

"He is at our summer home in Prague, my Master. Has been since the end of term," Malfoy wheezed.

"Hmm," Harry nodded. "I want him in my room in an hour, Lucius. Wormtail, you have another fifteen minutes, then set about finding Nagini something to eat, and a mate who is to be my familiar, got it?"

Wormtail whimpered, and Harry took that as a yes.

Voldemort steered him along by his shoulders, chuckling softly to himself. "I don't know who Dumbledore thought he was kidding," Harry heard him mumble, but before he could comment on it, Tom had opened the door and guided him through.

Harry stood, dumbstruck at the sight before him. It was not the gigantic floor to ceiling windows that looked out over a cliff that gave way to dark shimmering ocean that had him so stunned nor the _very_ Muggle entertainment center set up on the next wall. It was Snape, stretched out on a comfy looking chaise lounge in a simple muggle undershirt and loose pajama bottoms and looking for all the world like he belonged here that left Harry speechless. But then, for all Harry knew, maybe he did.


	3. Bastards, the lot of them

He looked crazily between Voldemort, who was ambling over to his desk at a lazy pace, and Snape, who had looked up to give him a cursory glance before delving back into his book, and wondered if saying anything about it would be like sticking his foot in his mouth.

"I hope you two aren't going to show me the finer points of making out or anything," Harry began, looking anywhere but at the two men in the room, "because I'd much rather like to be in bed, thanks."

"Waiting on the Malfoy whelp, I'm sure." Voldemort's tone made Harry blush, and looking around afforded him the opportunity to see Snape rise from his seat with a slightly mulish expression on his face.

"The Dark Lord does not _do_ making out, Potter," he said, shooting a look over his shoulder at said dark lord that couldn't hope to be anything but petulant. "Nor anything else remotely bordering on affection." His tone was petulant too.

Harry's eyebrows rose into his hairline, and his body tensed, prepared to duck should Tom take offense and hurl some type of curse. However, none was forthcoming, and if Voldie noticed Harry's slight flinch when he spun away from his desk with a wide smile and a flourish, he made no comment.

"Now, Harry, you're probably wondering why I'm in such a good mood," he began, motioning the younger wizard closer. Harry complied, shooting another glance at Snape, who had flopped back onto his lounge and was looking distinctly pouty. When he was close enough, Voldemort leaned close, like he was sharing a secret. "It seems that I may have been going about this the wrong way all along after all, and your startling appearance last night was simply the best thing to happen to both of us." At Harry's raised eyebrow, he asked, "Where's your wand, Harry?"

"It's right…." Harry trailed off. His pajama bottoms had no pockets, and his wand was nowhere near him. As a matter of fact, his wand was still somewhere on the property of Number Four, Privet Drive. Harry turned wide eyes to Voldmort. "I don't have it!"

"Exactly," Tom said, giving him an oily smile. "Yet you've apparated to me, and have done quite a bit of magic, even subconsciously, if you remember. And you'll be pleased to know you have me to thank."

Snape cleared his throat loudly from his lounge, and Voldemort corrected himself, with a tiny roll of his eyes. "Severus as well."

Harry blinked. "I don't understand. What exactly did you two do to me?"

"Nothing," Tom replied, his smile slick. "Just removed a few magical blocks from your core."

"A _few_? Core, blocks, _**WHAT?**_" Harry roared. He wasn't aware of what he was doing, but for some reason Snape felt it prudent to grab him by the waist and deposit him on the lounge he had been using.

"Control yourself, Potter!" the man snapped. "I'd rather not have my favorite seat ruined by your ridiculous wild magic!"

Looking around, Harry saw books and lamps and even the television trembling, and made a concerted effort to calm down. The temperature had also dropped considerably, frost gathering on every glass surface in range, and Harry once again found himself gobsmacked at the situation.

"Someone had bound my magic?" He asked dumbly.

"No, someone had bound your magic _numerous_ times," Voldemort corrected.

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"Dumbledore!" Voldemort cried gleefully with a manic gleam in his eye.

Harry was shocked. "ALL OF THEM?"

"Every one."

Harry reeled, and walked over to the gigantic windows. How could he? He had always suspected that the old man was using him just about every year. Hell, that was the reason he had left the Dursley's. How could Dumbledore be so fond of him throughout the school year, then dump him in Surrey every summer, where he was beaten regularly and told he was less than dirt. It just didn't add up. Not to mention the ten years before he'd even heard of Hogwarts. Harry'd always known Dumbledore had a lot to answer for to him, but he never thought it ran this deep.

He'd been suppressing what he called his Slytherin side because it seemed to please the old man he thought of as his mentor. And why? What had Dumbledore ever done for him, besides a rare pat on the head and offer damn candy? MRS. FIGG had done more than that for him. And he'd been pissed enough last night when his Uncle had come at him, saying that the Headmaster _knew _what he was doing to him to bash the man's head in and leave. When he'd made Dumbledore's death one of his conditions to stay with Tom he had meant it wholeheartedly. But now…..now Harry wanted to take part in it.

"When?" he asked, pressing his head against the cool glass.

"Once at four months old, or thereabout, presumably at the request of your parents, once again at fifteen months, after our faithful encounter, again at five years, and once more, age eleven and three months." Snape recited, from somewhere to the left of him.

Harry closed his eyes and laughed mirthlessly. "That bastard." He turned back to the room. "And they're all gone, you're sure?"

"Voldemort's smiled widened, but Snape seemed affronted to be asked such a question. "Of course."

"Good." He scratched his chest idly. "Thanks for telling me this, both of you, and for getting rid of them. I'm gonna go back to bed, if there's nothing else?"

"No no, nothing at all," Voldie said, his smile widening. "You've much to do, haven't you? A bed to get to, hopefully with a pureblood scion ensconced in it, yes, yes, off to bed with you, now."

By the time he was at the door Harry was three different shades of red. Shoving away from the elder wizard, Harry streaked to his room, wanting to put as much space between he and the bloody git as possible. It didn't occur to him, till he was standing outside his door, that it might seem that he was eager to see Malfoy.

And he was not.

Really.

After making sure he didn't look like he'd run halfway across the place to get there, Harry opened the door to his room, and nearly died.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on his bed. In underwear.

Harry had to close his eyes and count to ten before anything even resembling cognizant thought could be achieved.

He hadn't even been sure, before now, about whether he fancied girls or boys, but you didn't have to be definitely on either side to appreciate Malfoy's…Malfoy.

"We're just sleeping tonight, D-draco" he managed to get out in a voice that sounded strained, even to him. I'll just pop into the bathroom, yes, and you can change?"

He waited for the boy's shaky nod before hurling himself into the large, overly decorated bathroom and casting a silencing spell. And then, he screamed.


	4. Tease and Blush

Well, to be politically correct, Harry slammed the door shut, cast three silencing charms in quick succession, and _then_ screamed. But it hardly mattered. The fact of the matter was that Harry was screaming, and any sane person knew that it was a cause for concern.

However, Voldemort never claimed to be sane, on any level, hence the reason he giggled evilly through the link that joined their minds.

Harry was not pleased.

With a scowl, and a mental shove toward his equal, the small teenager ripped off his pajama bottoms and stomped into the shower. The faucets seemed all too willing to cool Harry down, however, and set about doing just that. Icy cold water shot out and drenched him before he had even reached for the taps, and Harry let out a high pitched, undignified yelp. Needless to say, he was no longer angry, and the faucets were most pleased.

Another ten minutes found him headed for bed, where a mercifully clothed Draco was curled up, half asleep. He stirred as Harry drew closer, and moved to sit up as Harry crawled in.

Harry waved the boy back down. "Later, if you don't mind. I've had a few rather nasty shocks in the past few hours and need more sleep. You should rest. I haven't any experience, but I gather long distance travel is fairly taxing on people." Draco looked weirdly confused, relieved and anxious. Harry felt his mouth go dry again, and looked away. "Tom's an evil bastard. Don't let him wake me up, k?" Without waiting for an answer, harry flopped down onto the remarkably soft sheets, and was out like a light.

There were voices talking rather loudly nearby. Had been for some time.

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and sat up. Draco stood at the edge of the bed looking terrified, and Voldemort reclined on a squashy armchair Harry was sure hadn't been there the night before.

"Do you people not know the value of a good night's sleep?" Harry asked grumpily.

Voldemort simply gave him a wide smile, while Draco started to sweat. Harry was instantly suspicious. "Volemort, what did you do?"

The dark lord affected an insulted expression. "I didn't do anything, Harry. _Draco_, on the other hand refuses to let me get near the bed."

Harry yawned, and shook his head. "Yeah, so? I told him not to let you wake me."

Voldemort didn't lose his smile. "Poor Draco, defying your master. Do you know how you will die, little dragon?" he asked, twirling his wand in his fingers. Draco whimpered softly, wringing his hands in front of him.

"Voldie, stop being mean," Harry said. He crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled Draco onto it. "He's just messing with you, Draco," he said, poking the boy in his ribs.

"I am not, " Tom maintained. "I am very serious."

"Then you're delusional," Harry shot back, standing from the bed. "Draco never took the Dark Mark."

"His father did."

"He may be blonde, but I'm pretty sure that," he pointed to Draco, who was watching them with wide eyes, "is not Lucius Malfoy."

"The fact remains that he was most rude when I came in to wake you. Even threatened to hex me," Voldemort said.

"Really?" Harry asked, impressed. He turned and gave the Slytherin an assessing look, making the blonde blush.

"Yes," the dark lord drawled. "It was the most disgustingly Gryffindor display I had seen in a while."

Draco flushed further, and Harry decided to take pity on him. "What did you want, anyway?" he asked the older man.

"Truthfully? I wanted to see if you two were naked." He met Harry's shocked expression with a bland one of his own. Severus and I made a friendly wager." He frowned. "I lost."

"I thought Dark lords never lose?" Harry asked impishly. "Are you going to kiss him?"

Voldemort scowled. "Yes."

Harry laughed. "You don't have to sound so unhappy about it. I know you want to."

Voldemort snarled and whipped out his wand. "How dare you? I do not _want_ to kiss Severus!"

"Of course you do." Harry was far too amused. "If you didn't then you wouldn't."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Harry. One cannot simply _ignore_ the consequences of a bet made. It's _magic_."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure it is. And it has nothing to ddo with your plan to get Severus in your bed, at all, right?"

"I won't deign to grace that with an answer," Voldemort said, his nose in the air. "Have you told Draco how excited you were to have him all to yourself last night?" He chuckled while Harry sputtered, turning a bright red. "How you simply raced back to your rooms after to told Lucius to deliver him?"

"Shut up!" a brilliantly blushing Harry yelled.

"What?" the man asked. "Don't pretend as if you don't know what I'm talking about. I can see into your mind, Harry, and it is a _very_ dirty place."

"Get out!" Harry stomped over to the door, and threw it open. "Don't you have a bet to make good on? A certain potions master to be snogging to death? I'm sure he's waiting oh-so-impatiently for you to get back, you know. Probably got all dressed up for the occasion, too." He managed an evil smile while Voldemort glared at him. "Or dressed down."

Two minutes later, Harry was alone in his room, once again, with Draco, and floundering for something to say. Yes, he had switched sides. Yes, he was now sort-of a dark lord. Yes, he could be a bit ruthless, he thought, and demand an entire person to himself. But he was only fifteen years old. He didn't really _know_ what one did when one had one's super secret crush all to oneself for one's complete pleasure.

Still, his position demanded he say _something_, so he complied.

"I like you."

He dearly wanted to smack himself in the three second interval between that statement and the next, but didn't have the time. "I mean, that's obvious, or else why would you be here, right? But I really like you, even though you're usually a conceited jerk and you tease me and make me want to rip my hair out and you're mean to my friends, but I , I like the way you look, and smell, sometimes when you walk past me in the halls or in class I can smell you and I like it, I don't quite know what it is, but I like it." He was pacing now, absently, wringing the shirt he held in his hands. Harry refused to look at the boy sitting on his bed. If Draco decided he couldn't stomach being with a stupid, impulsive, can't-keep-his-mouth-shut, seriously lacking self-preservation Gryffindor, then he didn't want to be able to see it. "I said all that to say I'm not going to brand you like Voldie does his guys, and I'm not into that torture and bloodshed thing, and I'm not sure I'd survive a week if I told you I owned you and you have to stay here, but I think it could be pretty good, here, with me, if you wanted. I'm basically equal with Voldemort, and we've got enough funds for us to be real well off and I'll only be working a little, with the kids, and I plan to take Hogwarts, but none of that is important, at all, really, I just thought you'd like an idea of what you'd be getting into, if you stay. I mean, 'cause I'd like it if you stayed." He paced some more, before running a hand roughly through his hair and coming to a stop. "That's it," he said to the floor.

He could hear Draco moving off the bed, but the blonde's footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet beneath their feet. So when Draco appeared in front if him, kneeling down less than an inch away from him and wrapped his pale arms around Harry's waist, said green-eyed teen was struck speechless.

Silver eyes gazed up at him, a pointed chin poking him in the stomach. "I'll stay."

Harry's eyes were wide and slightly panicked. "Why are you down there? You're not a slave or anything! Stand up! Quick, before Tom comes back in here, or worse, your _dad_!"

Draco laughed at him, refusing to move. "Merlin, Potter. Calm down. Are you a dark lord or not?" Harry continued to stare at him, his arms high in the air, and skin flushed a bright red. "Look, no matter what anyone says, this is my place. Not as your slave, you dolt," he said at Harry's panicked head shaking. "But you _are_ my master. And if I had the slightest problem being submissive then you would know about it. I'm not saying that I'm going to agree with everything you say, or do, because Merlin knows you're probably the most aggravating person I've ever met, but, " here the blonde paused and blushed. "I like you too."

And after that, Harry could hardly help it if he walked around with a dopey grin on his face for the rest of the day. Even Voldemort's teasing couldn't do anything about it.

**AN:**_ So, some clarifications. Someone said in a review that this fic is a 'bit theatrical'. I'm not saying the person said it was a bad thing, but I just felt like I should point out that this fic is going to be. I decided to write this purely for fun, so sometimes it might be crack, , but I endeavour to keep it at least borderline humorous. I haven't a clue how to write funny, so bear with me __J Sorry this update was so long in coming, and so short, in length and content. I've really been struggling with updating all my fanfics. It got less fun and more work, and I hate work, as anyone who knows me can tell you. Also, reader input would be awesome. Who do you think I should bring in, what you think I should do with Dr. Palanski, should Voldie break into a song and dance routine at dinner one day, that sort of thing. I have an idea to bring Dobby into this, but I want you guys' opinion first. _

_**WARNING: Personal angst ahead. You may want to close this window and find something else to read.**_

_On a completely unrelated note, I need to vent, sort of. I was molested as a child, and it sucks carrying around that sort of baggage. I know none of you want to hear this sort of thing, but I just felt like I needed to say it, somehow, at least once to someone, somewhere. I'm sick of being scared and hurting and I think it's time for it to stop. I'm not sure how I'm going to do that, yet. But that's what I want. Here's to hoping and New Year's Resolutions, right?_

_**DONE.**__ Sorry about that. As always, Thank You for reading and all your comments are greatly appreciated. _

_HAPPY NEW YEARS!_


	5. Morning!

You have no idea how much just a simple review or kind word can change someone's day. Thank you so much again, especially to dgpolo, wandamarie, , and snapelover20!

Now, onto the long awaited chapter 5!

~?~?~?~?~

Wormtail, as it turned out, was rather efficient at doing what he was told. This mild discovery was made by Harry, early the next morning, when a commotion outside his bedroom roused him, grumpily, from sleep.

He rolled out of bed, fighting against the thick comforter trying to smother him in it's folds, and marched straight to the door. Said door was promptly yanked open, only to see Wormtail, a large sack held against his chest, facing off with another four masked death eaters.

Harry stood in the doorway, blinking up at them all sleepily. "What are you lot doing?"

The men all jumped, before falling to their knees, even Wormtail, never releasing his hold on the sack.

"My lord," one Death Eater said, "we intercepted Wormtail trying to interrupt your rest, Master."

"My lord! You assigned me a task!" Wormtail quivered where he knelt. Harry grimaced. If he didn't put a stop to it now, the man was sure to wet himself. And the hall carpet.

"What time is it, anyway?" he yawned. The problem with giving terrified minions a job to do with an 'ASAP' deadline was that 'ASAP' left no room for independent thought. At least, not in this case.

"Shortly after five am, master."

Harry groaned. Now he would never get back to sleep. "Well, get on with it, Wormtail."

The man whimpered, rushing to his feet before swaying dangerously. Harry watched it all with a bored sort of patience, idly wondering if he would be in time to call the obviously massive snake off the rat-like man before it killed him. Wormtail set the heavy-looking sack on the floor as the remaining death Eaters backed away. Self-preservation, it seemed, was strong in these guys. Harry was amused.

Just as Wormtail finally managed to loose the massive tie the bound the opening, the sack gave a mighty lurch, and a great black snake flew out of it.

Harry was impressed.

The reptile did not actually fly, because it didn't have wings, but moved with a speed so impressive Harry was hard pressed to keep up with it. The Death Eaters had all leapt away with varying shouts of surprise and alarm. Wormtail stood where he was, quivering slightly as he bowed.

Harry was vaguely annoyed.

He had been hoping the snake would attack the ex-human. Harry didn't believe that anyone who spent as much time in animal form would ever be completely human, Sirius included.

As it was, the massive reptile slithered lazily around the crowded corridor, forked tongue flickering in and out of its mouth periodically. Just when Harry had decided that his new pet was a bit on the tame side, it launched out, hooking onto the skin of Wormtails neck and the remainder of its body whipped through the air to wrap around the man's struggling body.

Harry grinned.

'_He will give you indigessstion, I promissse.'_ he said from the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest lazily.

The snake turned to gaze at him slowly, its bulk reflexively squeezing every time Wormtail twitched.

'_You ssspeak.'_

'_I do'._

The forked tongue flickered out once more, before the snake deigned to answer him. _'You have a most interesssting rodent-human,'_ it said. _'But it disagreesss with my palate.'_

The creature moved then, slipping down to the carpeted floor easily, leaving a twitching, whimpering Wormtail in a pile on the floor. Harry watched, amused, as the snake slithered pat him into the bedroom, curling itself around the bedpost on its way to the mound of rumpled blankets where Draco lay.

Harry swore.

"Someone get in here and make a fire!" he shouted, stalking over to the bed, where Draco's face peeked innocently out at the world from under a mountain of blankets. The snake, who Harry had subconsciously been calling Rufus, crept close, his forked tongue reaching out to taste the air heavy with Draco's breath.

'_One such asss you isss too young to have a life-mate.'_ it turned to look at him, hooded eyes meeting bright green. _'But there isss something ssstrange about you, both of you. You tassste strange, the sssame, but better, than the rat man.'_

'_We are all wizardsss,'_ Harry offered. _'You may tassste our magic.'_

Rufus tasted the air again, and gave a snake shrug. _'Perhapsss. This nessst is for sssleeping, yes?'_

'_Yesss',_ Harry replied slowly.

'_Then get in. I am tired. Your rodent man kept sssqueezing into the no-place world.'_

'_Apparition,'_ Harry murmured, crawling back into bed after lazily dismissing the Death Eater that had conjured a fireplace and set a blaze going. _'A form of wizard travel.'_

'_A nuisssance.'_

'_Perhapsss.'_

'_Sssleep. Before I bite you.'_

Well, there wasn't much he could say against that, could he?

Rufus was a rather impressive creature. Harry knew this, but didn't actually seem to _know _this, if the rather bemused expression that crept across his face every time someone caught sight of the snake and either screamed, jumped at least three feet into the air or did a combination of both could attest to. Only Draco and Voldemort, and by extension, Snape, seemed unruffled by the massive snake's presence. Draco had sat up later that morning, caught sight of Rufus curled up on Harry's chest with the remainder of his length stretched across his own hip, and promptly jabbed a finger into Harry's side. Harry, who hadn't actually fallen asleep but had been day dreaming about catching the snitch against a furious Snape, had yelped, but hadn't been able to shift himself under the considerable weight of Rufus, and so had settled Draco with a rather fearsome glare.

Draco had been supremely unmoved. "There is a rather large snake sleeping on your chest."

"Really? I hadn't noticed. Maybe I was too busy trying to breathe _under the massive snake on my chest._" Harry hissed.

Draco's scowl deepened. "Then why the hell won't you just _shove it off_?"

"Maybe because I didn't mind it being there? I was quite comfortable daydreaming till you woke up. Now, _my side hurts_!"

Draco pinked, and flung the covers off of him. "Well, it's going to hurt for a bit longer, because I'm not helping you get up."

Harry could only watch as the blond boy stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The noise roused Rufus, who muttered that humans were far too noisy for his comfort, and slithered over to the still roaring fire, from which he dared Harry to disturb him again.

When Harry had finally been deemed acceptable to grace the world by a slightly grumpy Draco, the Death Eaters guarding his chambers had all taken a collective breath, which Harry was pretty sure they held till He, Draco and Rufus were three floors up. Voldemort had grinned, his eyes twinkling in a Dumbledore-esque way that Harry decided was far too disturbing to be seen first thing in the morning, and after informing the dark lord of his thoughts narrowly dodged a sickly purple spell, grinning. Draco tactfully ignored both Dark lords, set himself at the table and ordered breakfast. Harry took a seat near him soon after, and decided that he liked breakfast so far.

Severus, however, was far from amused.

"Potter," came the soft, silky tones of Hogwarts former Potions Professor. "Re_move_ your infernal snake, _immediately_."

Rufus had somehow managed to wrap himself around Severus, loose coils looped around the man's arms and shoulders, snout peeking out from under a lock of inky black hair. Altogether he seemed rather amused, if a snake could be amused, his tongue flicking out every no and then, causing a muscle along Snape's jaw to clench sporadically.

'_You're having fun, aren't you?'_ Harry asked.

'_Yesss. I like thisss one.'_ Rufus shifted, sticking his snout deeper into Snape's hair. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. _'He smellsss of earth, and is very warm.'_

'_I do not think he likesss you, though.'_

'_Hisss problem.'_

_He shot Snape an apologetic look, ignoring the amusement pouring off his older counterpart. "Sorry. He likes you."_

_If looks would kill, Harry, and then Rufus, would have exploded into hundreds of little on-fire pieces. _

_Draco continued his breakfast with the grace of a true pureblood, ignoring all the idiots around him. _


End file.
